Journal of the Lost Days
by SilentChelsea
Summary: Get a glimpse inside Harry Mason's mind. Read through his personal journal to find out how he made it out of Silent Hill, learn of the mental torment he feels in the aftermath and his doubts about his new daughter. (Set between SH1 and SH3)
1. Entry 1

6/13/04

_Heather had another nightmare. I had been hoping that as she got older she would outgrown them, but it seems that as she grows they are becoming more vivid. This morning, after I got home from work, Mrs. Thomas told me that Heather had been crying all night in her sleep. Calling out for her mom. Mrs. Thomas is too polite to ask me outright where Heather's mother is, but I could tell she wanted to. I don't know if I should lie to her or tell her the truth—the truth of June. Not Alessa's truth. Never. That truth was buried years ago._

_I worry though. As Heather's vocabulary expands, she is becoming more vocal about her dreams. How many 5 year old girls say they dream of being on fire? How many can draw you the symbol I saw all over that town? I worry that one day she is going to say something to the wrong person and word is going to get back to that cult about us. _

_I read an article today at work about sleep inducing medication. A lot of people claim that they don't sleep while taking the drugs. I feel like a horrible father for even entertaining the idea of drugging my 5 year old daughter but the nightmares are getting more vivid and more violent._

_A week ago, she woke up clawing at her skin, screaming that she was on fire. It took me two hours to calm her down. I was just lucky that I happened to have been home that night. Her forearms were covered in bandages the next few days. Mrs. Thomas asked me about it several times and I had to lie to her. I told her Heather had been helping me do the dishes and fell into the sink where there was a bunch of knives waiting to be rinsed. I was lucky she didn't call child protective services right then. _

_How much longer will my luck hold out?_


	2. Entry 2

6/16/04

_It is Father's Day._

_I still have the last gift Cheryl gave me. It is folded up in my wallet, tucked deep within receipts and far from Heather. I still don't know what would happen if Heather found mementos of her life as my Cheryl. I fear that it could devastate her mentally. _

_The relic itself is a scrap of paper, one torn edge where she pulled it out from her little sketch book. The pages have yellowed over the years, the paper itself is warped with humidity and age. On it, is a red heart. The flip side has text, saying:_

_'Happy Father's Day, Daddy!"_

_Just below the scribbled text is a smaller heart then the line:_

_'Love Cheryl'_

_She made it with the babysitter the day before she gave it to me. That was so long ago, I can barely remember it. It has become fogged, much like the first Father's Day I had. June had woken early and managed to make me waffles with little chocolate chips in them. She presented them to me in bed and brought Cheryl in. We were not technically her parents yet, only guardians taking care of her until the state located her family. June had placed Cheryl on my legs and let her crawl along me. I woke up and found her standing at the foot of the bed, a large plate of food and a mug of fresh coffee in her hands. She looked amazing. The illness had left her be that whole week as if a final gift to me before it took her over. _

_It was the best morning of my life. I hope that some day, Heather will make me a little drawing on a piece of paper. I will cherish it right alongside Cheryl's. _


	3. Entry 3

6/17/04

_I got a call while I was at work. I had been in the back opening boxes and being showed how to work the computer program the place uses for inventory when my manager called me to his office. Mrs. Thomas had called me from my house phone and told me to come home immediately._

_Honestly, I don't even remember driving home. All I did was get there as fast as I could. I found them in the living room, Heather was sleeping on the couch. Mrs. Thomas was wearing her sleeping robe and had the TV on a kid's channel. She motioned for me to be quiet then follow her back into the hall. _

_I asked her what happened and she gave me the sternest look I've ever seen from her._

_"Where is your wife, Charles?" _

_I had been so concerned for Heather's safety that I almost forgot what name I am currently using. _

_"She died a few years ago, shortly after Chery—Heather was born." I caught myself but I don't think it was quick enough. I pressed on, hoping that she wouldn't notice. "She passed away from a rare cancer. Why do you ask?"_

_"Heather had another one of her nightmares and frankly I don't think these are just normal kid nightmares." I asked her to elaborate. "Heather was sitting in the middle of her room when I came in. She looked to me and told me that god was hurting her. I asked her what she meant and she looked quiet serious when she answered me."_

_"What did she say?"_

_" She said, 'God is inside me and he hurts my tummy.'."_

_My heart stopped then. I am almost sure that I had a heart attack, even just a mild one. I felt the blood drain from my face when she said it. _

_Alessa is still there. That demon is still in the girl… the one I now call my daughter. They aren't just echos of who she was, she still is her. She is Alessa. Heather is not my Cheryl, she is that monster that I fought. _

_I don't even remember the excuse I made up to Mrs. Thomas. I've already packed the entire house around Heather. We will leave in the morning and move West more. _

_Maybe if I get her father from that town, she'll be released. _


	4. Entry 4

6/19/04

_I rented out a hotel room for a couple days. My boss refused to give me my check early. I couldn't exactly tell him 'Sir, I need my check 4 days early because I need to grab my daughter and get the hell out of her before my daughter's past catches up with us. Yes sir, cash will be fine.' _

_It is a single room, quiet. I worry though that the other patrons in the hotel will hear her during her nightmares. It is sad to admit, but I am used to it now. The screaming and crying. If she was still a toddler, it could be passed off as a temper-tantrum from a tired child but Heather uses words now that could get her taken from me. _

_People won't understand. _

_I have to justify it even to myself._

_When she had her last few sips of water before bed, I dumped about 5g of a ground up sleeping pill into her drink. _

_I disgust myself but I can't let her continue to suffer them and I can't afford to have the cops called on me while we are moving around._

_Once we get settled in a new house, I swear, no more medication. It is just for now. Just for now._


	5. Entry 5

6/20/04

_I couldn't sleep last night. I wouldn't let myself. I stayed up all night just watching Heather breathe, making sure that she continued to take a breath in after every exhale. It felt like the first few nights all over again. I couldn't shake the memory as I sat in the chair I had pulled up to the edge of the bed. _

_After I got out of that hell, I remember thinking about what to do with the child I had been given. It came from that monster, that demon. It looked like my Cheryl but I knew deep down inside it wasn't. It couldn't be. I walked along the highway for hours, just waiting for someone to stop. Eventually, a truck driver pulled over. A big semi. He didn't mention a name but as soon as he saw me carrying the baby he insisted I climb into the sleeper cab and let her rest. He asked me what had happened, I was covered in head to toe with cuts, bruises, burns… I still had most of the weapons on me. The gun was at the small of my back, tucked in my waistband. The knife was tucked into the inside of my boot. I had a heavy box of ammo in one jacket pocket and the bottle holding the remnants of the red liquid in the other. _

_I told him that we had been in a car accident. That a deer had ran out in front of the car, i had struck it and rolled the car. He asked where the girl's mother was and I told him that she had passed a few months ago. That it was just me and her… whoever that child is. _

_He drove us to the next stop. It wasn't even a town, just a set of bathrooms, an empty lot for the truckers to park for the night and a convenience store. I had told the man I would duck inside the store and call police about the car crash and asked him if I could leave the child with him. He said it would be fine. _

_I walked into the store and over to a pay phone at the back wall. I lifted the receiver and pretended to talk to an officer about my car. II walked back out of the store and stood in front of the doorway for a bit. The man in the truck couldn't see me where he had parked. He couldn't see me if I walked left and just kept walking. He seemed like a decent guy, he spoke softly and showed a care for the girl. I could leave her to someone else. She wasn't mine… she never was. Not even Cheryl was mine. _

_In those few moments, I've never hated myself more but I couldn't stop myself. I turned away from the truck and started walking. I circled around behind the store and started heading back towards the highway. My legs carried me but I was sure that I couldn't feel them. All I could think of was Cheryl. I missed her so much and I wanted her back. I had gone through all that pain, all that horror to get her back and in the end I lost her anyway. It hadn't mattered. _

_Now I was going to start again with a memory of Alessa, an echo of Cheryl. _

_My foot struck an old wheel rim buried in the dark ground. I shot forward to the ground and in the motion, the gun dislodged itself and fell to the ground beside me. I picked it up and looked at it. The handle was bloodied, dirty. The barrel was rusting around the curves and corners. It was an old gun, well used. Looking at it, I could almost hear the sirens starting again. Far off in the distance. Behind me, as if they were emanating from the child herself. It gnawed away at my sanity. No matter where we went, this child would be connected to what lived below that town. _

_I lifted the gun to my right temple, the barrel still warm from the heat of being tucked away in my pants for so long. I pushed it against my head harder, harder as my hand began to tremble. I didn't want to die but I had nothing left. I lost June. I lost Cheryl. I lost Lisa. Even Cybil was out of my grasp now. I begged her to leave with me but she remained. She said she had to stay near that town to make sure that what had happened to us never happened again. _

_My hand shook but my heart remained steady. I had expected it to grow impatient, to race, to stop even. I should have died in that town but someone had kept me alive. The sirens howled in my mind and I wondered if the child could sense me trying to do what I was about to. _

_The child was connected to the town, there was no doubt about it. But no one would understand, no one would be able to keep her safe or even know what would be coming after her. She had only me and now I had only her. _

_My hand relaxed and I dropped the gun to my side. I couldn't abandon her. I slipped the gun back into its place, stood and walked back to the truck. As I approached I could hear the girl screaming and crying. Loud, long wails just like the sirens. I opened the door and the trucker looked to me._

_"Thank god. She just started screaming out of nowhere." He was holding her, rocking her slowly, the front of her hat tipped to the side. I climbed in and motioned for him to hand her over as I crawled into the sleeper. _

_"The police are going to get my car in the morning. Where is the next big city?" I asked._

_"About two hundred miles North. Dixen."_

_"I'd appreciate the ride there."_

_"No problem, friend. Anything for you and the little princess." He gave a weary but warm smile and pulled on the Jake-break. Air hissed from the breaks and the truck lurched forward as he pressed the pedal down. _

_I sat in the back of the sleeper, rocking the girl slowly. Her blind little eyes seemed to look through me. As soon as I held her close to my chest again, she was silent. _

_The next day I had checked into a hotel in Dixen. She hadn't slept great in the cab and was now sprawled out on the hotel bed. I was sitting in a chair next to the bed as I am now, just watching her sleep. My mind raced in the quietness._

_What is she?_

_Who is she?_

_Something about her unnerves me. She had known that I had thought of leaving her and she had called to me. Or maybe it had been a coincidence. It wasn't something I felt I was likely to find the answer to any time soon. _

_Now I watch her sleep because I drugged her. A little sleeping aid into her drink just before bed. I hate myself almost as much as I did back at the truck stop, but the thought of the gun sitting on the nightstand next to me doesn't even cross my mind._

_She is my daughter, whoever she is really, I know that for sure. She needs me, no one else can be her father. It is only me and her against the world. _


	6. Entry 6

6/22/04

_Heather has been in a daze over the last few days. I think I gave her a bit too much on her first dose. She slept 16 hours after the first dose. I didn't give her any the next night and she slept through the night without any trouble, but still today she is groggy. I've caught her staring off at the wall time and time again. I called to her a few times and she didn't answer, she just played with her teddy bear's nose for a few minutes, then would close her eyes and go into almost a standing sleep. She just sat there, her eyes closed, swaying back and forth a bit before jerking awake after about 15 minutes. _

_I will have to give her a smaller amount and less frequently. I just don't think her system can handle that heavy a medication. I think while she is asleep tonight I will walk down to the corner store and get her some children's cold medicine. The stuff that has codeine in it so it will still knock her out. _

_We will only be here another 2 nights before we are getting on a bus and heading a few states over. I don't think we can stay this close anymore… not to that town. _

_The other morning, just before the sun rose, I found myself drifting off. I got up and walked out into the cold morning air to wake myself up. It was still dark, but just bright enough to make out the parking lot for the most part. Our room is on the second floor. I was leaning on the railing of the balcony, looking around when I caught some movement out of the corner of my eye._

_It was slight, I was almost sure that I hadn't seen it until I looked in that direction. There was a man. He seemed to almost melt away into the shadows the more I looked at him but he was there. I know he was there. It wasn't a foggy mind from days of little sleep. I saw him, he worse a long coat, a hood pulled over his shirt. He was looking up at me. I straightened, not expecting to see anyone. He turned and left the parking lot. Not back to a room nor to a car. He walked tot he road and continued that direction until I lost him in the low light. _

_I've been checking out the window every hour or so to see if there is anyone else. The door is locked, a chair propped up under the handle. I don't have to worry about him getting in through the bathroom window but there is a single window just beside the door. I have been parked in front of it, not leaving expect to get food out of the bag for Heather, get her bathed or to use the bathroom. My handgun is just beside me. Didn't even bother to put the safety on. I want to be able to use it in a hurry. _

_We both are tired, Heather from the drugs I gave her and myself from lack of sleep. We move around the room like zombies, bumping into each other but not talking. The TV has been on since we got in here, stuck on the only kid channel that the hotel TV can get in. _

_I've already called Cybil and asked her to help me set up a new alias for Heather. She is going to need to be in school soon. I have no idea where we will settle, but we are going. I am thinking I am going to get as far away from that town as possible without leaving the country. Maybe the West Coast. Get lost in California somewhere. Live in a seaside town in Washington. Anywhere away from here. _


	7. Entry 7

7/5/04

_The damn fireworks woke me up._

_Not that I am not grateful—or maybe I'm not. I don't know anymore. She came to me again, she has been coming to me more often lately. Almost every time I fall sleep she is waiting behind my eyelids. _

_Lisa…_

_I know she hates me, though she was too kind a soul to ever voice her animosity towards me, but I can feel it. It creeps over me like the feeling of being far from home and suddenly recalling that I left something behind that I always carry—that feeling of utter nakedness despite being fully clothed. It is that cold, exposure that I feel when she comes to me._

_She radiates light, her perfectly pressed uniform, vivid red sweater. Every hair around her face creates the perfect frame. A halo of red-yellow around her doll-like skin. She smiles to me and I know she is glad that I returned for her, I know she loves me. I am her hero, her knight. I take a few steps towards her, the tile below my feet slick and cold, mold and muck cover the walls, floor;Hangs dangling from the ceiling. It is heavy on the air, but as I move closer to her that feeling becomes too overpowering to ignore. _

_In a panic, I run towards her, reaching my hand out to grasp her, take her into my arms and flee from the nightmare that has been haunting me for so long, the nightmare that has just washed over me as my mind slipped away. My fingers grasp her shoulders and they are stiff under her shirt. The joints creak as I attempt to pull her from the chair that she had been sat in. I pull at her and I feel the thick warmness running between my fingers, soaking the front of her uniform. I looked to her face and it is stained crimson. _

_More than anything else, it is her angelic face twisted in a bizarre, in-human fury. She leaps at me, a flash of light swinging across my vision as she wields at scalpel. Her body moves strangely, animal like as her arm slashes this way and that but all the while, I hear her voice far off calling out to me. _

_"Harry…. please don't leave me. I'm so scared. I'm cold…Help me."_

_Over and over again she pleads with me to comfort her, help her and I can do nothing but back away in fear. I am a coward. The same lines of thought run through my mind as back in that dirty hospital room. The same cheap excuses, the same theories that convinced me to lock her away instead of comfort her. _

_Her blade cut the front of my chest open, from shoulder to hip, it is deep. I feel the pain and throw my arms up to protect myself. She cuts at them too, over and over again. I just look on from far beyond my physical presence int he dream. I watch her butcher the me that is being attacked as the me that watches knows that it is justice. _

_That was when the light and noise of the firecrackers being set off in the hotel parking lot sent me rolling out of bed and crashing to the floor. Heather slept through the entire thing, we have gotten into a routine of her taking a dose of children's flu medication with her dessert. About half way through bath time she is nearly dead to the world. I tuck her in, though I miss storytime before bed unlike I ever thought I would before. Cheryl always tried to coax one more book out of me, every night. Heather doesn't seem all that broken up over not having it. Further proof she isn't my Cheryl. _

_I shouldn't have left that place. I should have given Heather to Cybil. I should have stayed with what was left of Cheryl and her other half, that demon. I should have died alongside my daughter but I didn't. Now I am plagued by nightmares when I sleep and guilt when I wake. _


	8. Entry 8

08/01/04

_Things have been strangely quiet lately. I don't know why but Heather was been sleeping heavily. No nightmares, no night terrors, no strange drawings not even talking to her invisible friend. Well, there has been a few moments when she asks me to set an extra place for her little friend at dinner occasionally. What did she call her again… Oh right, Claudia. She seems to like Claudia quite a bit. Heather alternates between calling Claudia her friend and her sister, it seems harmless. Maybe something she picked up from a TV show._

_I've gotten the paperwork set up for Heather. She will be starting Kindergarten in about a week. Her name is now Heather Mills. Cybil really helped out, setting the paper work up with a friend she has in an orphanage in Brahms. I am thankful that she seems to be more normal? Acting more normal anyway. I feel better about her going to school and not having to worry about the things she does with the babysitters. No more distressing drawings, no more talks of god and how her mommy forced her to sleep in the small space after being bad and not reading the books correctly. _

_Also, I have a job. Local newspaper needed an editor for the advice column. It doesn't pay that well, but I can work from home and that is the best thing for Heather. I think that perhaps because I've been around her so much lately, she is improving. I want to spend as much time around her as possible._


	9. Entry 9

8/24/04

_Heather started school a couple days ago. I worry for her. I can't stay on campus without drawing attention to myself. It isn't my intention to be the creepy father that wants to stay with his daughter day and night, but Heather isn't a normal little girl. As much as I'd like to pretend she is, that just isn't the reality of this situation. She isn't normal. She is special and no one is going to understand how special she is. Part of me is almost tempted to tell her teacher something—not the truth. Never the truth, but something else. Maybe that I was in the mafia and we are on the run or in witness protection. It is kind of crazy but more believable than the alternative. _

_No one is going to understand the fact that Heather has no birth certificate because she wasn't really born. Neither was Cheryl. Some part of me wonders if that girl was even born of if Dahlia pulled her into existence through magical force. _

_I think that girl came to me in my dreams last night. It was dark, hard to tell if it was that demon or my Cheryl—they look so alike in my memory now. Whoever was in my dream, they were at the end of a long, dark tunnel. I was running towards her, I was sure it was Cheryl, sure if I could just get to her I could have her again. I ran and ran but there was something in the tunnel, a thickness that slowed me down. As I moved closer I slowed down. The more I struggled, the thicker the liquid grew to be. _

_Panting and calling out to her, I made it within feet of her. I could almost reach out and touch her but the stuff was up to my waist and as solid as a rock. I was held, steadfast. I couldn't move, just call out to her. I struggled and struggled, reaching father than I thought I ever could. Then my hand smacked something. Glass. It was a panel of glass between us. She couldn't even hear me calling out to her. _

_I started to beat on the glass but she wondered away, chasing after some invisible thing that had caught her attention. A light began to build behind the glass and it slowly became a mirror. I could see myself in the mirror only I was much older. My hair was grey, skin sagging around the eyes. I opened my mouth to gasp and a thick liquid began to blossom from my chest. I think it may had been blood but the color was wrong._

_Clasping my hands over the wound, I held my breath, trying to stop the bleeding. My hands felt something under my shirt. I pulled at it, ripping it away and found the end of a skewer point protruding through my chest. I turned around and saw a blonde woman. She was behind in in such a way I couldn't see her face directly, but I felt her concentration just a solid as the blade in my chest. _

_She murmured something, telling me… "God loves, even you." before pulled the blade free and pressing her hands together in prayer. _

_I dropped to the ground and realized I had rolled out of my bed. I smacked my head pretty good on the nightstand on my way down. Nice bruise over my left eyebrow now. _

_Seems like the nightmares Heather lost have found me. _


End file.
